What is my operative word?
Go?
Stop?
Never, is it Yes.
Always it is No!
Sometimes in a gesture,
Occasionally in a gait;
If I were blind
And read by braille,
My fingers might feel Wait.
And we've met some
Who don't have
An Operative at all.

When I said, "I can,
I'm asked, how possible?
The moment I said, "I can't,"
The agreeing nod was audible

Obama did it...
You are not Obama!
Likely to fail like Edith
Sure! The poor bar man

I was taught
To stay positive till the end
Took my choice off the wrong thought
once I know, it's all just in my head

The agreeing thought was audible
The moment I said, "I can,"
I'm asked, how possible?
Yet I said, "I can".

the yes would still come through fog and rain;
clear as day, the words escape your lips.
your beautiful, glowing lips;
that i wish i could touch once in my lifetime.

the yes would still push through your teeth;
even if it came next week,
even if it didn’t come at all.
you would say yes.

forgive the sinners of their sins, for they did not know what they were doing.
like a saint, you speak to me.
yes, yes, yes, you say.
you want her lips again.

Geek was fairly bad, yeah,
but if you really were one,
you maybe didn't know it.

Yeah, your time space mind
compresses to my mindtimespace
you
think up from nothing,
space is not the first thing you think.

alluring in mind
a temptation of the soul
maybe no or yes

---- critics should call it scatter brained,
it is never really waves,

if you look real
close, like
right in the eye- but, keep your bubble,
this

is my window into between,
that is the difference, between us, a screen,
flat plain,
explain my way from a single strand reality,

not in my time pal, that's just
not right.

We live as we learn. Life is complicated,
not confusion, chaos contained
that's life

in the last lane, look back, was it worth it.

You get your twenty bucks back if you ask,

nice, say I am not satisfied with the actual
pay for attention
point being stretched to splice into my life

with a stroke, of good luck, chair bound,
beyond time, Hawking waves,
hello, with all his fingers and toes, he knows.

I like to think that when you left me, you went straight to church. you listened to the sermon, but you couldn't stand up when the congregation sang.
I like to think that someday you'll stop trying to wash my scriptures off your hands with holy water.
I like to think that I'm that old mattress you had when you were ten; you always said it held the same familiarity as falling in love with a stranger.
the mattress' holes from falling asleep with lit cigarettes match up perfectly with my alibi.

I'm not to be trusted. I'm an angry human.
I grew up with broken glass in my lungs and cracked ribs.
something inside me snaps even further when the sun shapes your body into a shadow on my bedroom wall.

I want to redefine the word 'fire' with your name, and light candles with you. I want to make my walls sweat. I want you to burn up my ****** clothes. I want you to set my books ablaze. I want you to realize the hardest part is never letting go, but forgetting you ever had a handle.

you can't be the flame and the wick.
you need to leave me to burn down, like the altar candles in the front of the sanctuary, for everyone to see.

sometimes I think god hates me; I'm just a pawn in his and satan's chess game.
small and insignificant in value - I almost want satan to win.

after all,
if you are fire,
hell will feel like home.

but then I remember that I'm tired of controlled burns and scrubbing your soot off of my hands.

so I like to think that when you left me, you went straight to church. you listened to the sermon, but you couldn't stand up when the congregation sang.

and I like to think that Saint Jude called me out of your blaze, and that I left you there with all of your confessions and your communions in your own personal hell.

either way, it's not my cross to bear anymore.

She took me serious,
When I included her children who wasn’t my own

She took me serious,
When judgement became irrelevant

She took me serious,
When she trusted me with internal/external wounds

She took me serious,
When clear communication expanded unconditionally

She took me serious,
When trauma or anxiety triggers became nonexistent

She took me serious,
When open conversations felt genuine

She took me serious,
When both bodies were respected

She took me serious,
When priority meant sacrifice willingly

She took me serious,
When God was involved